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by CattyJay



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn, V is a shameless flirt, and a Street Kid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28712745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CattyJay/pseuds/CattyJay
Summary: V’s first introduction to Panam is over a Centzon on the rocks with Jackie, watching as she storms out of Rogue’s private booth at the Afterlife.Whether it’s the alcohol or a death wish, V approaches her with an offer Panam might not be able to refuse.*Set in a timeline where Saburo never showed up at Konpeki and the heist was a success. The biochip never left its case or went near V’s neuroport. Evelyn gave the chip to the Voodoo Boys and got enough eddies to quit Clouds, and everyone who died is alive.
Relationships: Panam Palmer/Female V
Comments: 32
Kudos: 305





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because wouldn’t Night City be a better place if Saburo had just stayed in Japan?

“You know what, Rogue? Go fuck yourself.”

V put down her tequila, the heated words pulling her attention away from her drink and over to the booth reserved for Rogue and her crew. A woman in a red motorcycle jacket strode out from behind Weyland. She had a scowl on her lips, V watching as she swept past her and Jackie to take a seat part way down the bar.

“Who’s that?” V asked.

Claire’s eyes had been following her too. “Panam Palmer. Nomad. Runs with the Aldecaldos. Does the odd transport job for Rogue from time to time.”

“A smuggler,” Jackie mused, and chuckled around his drink. “Wonder what Rogue did to piss her off.”

“Opened her mouth?” V suggested with a grin. “I’ve noticed our Queen has that effect.”

“Word has it she botched her latest job, lost the cargo. But Rogue doesn’t care, she’s got her eddies.”

Jackie made a pained sound, swearing in Spanish. “That’s rough.”

V kept her gaze on the woman, sipping gingerly at her Centzon. A bartender had set a beer down in front of her, Panam giving him a nod without looking up. V didn’t know what it was about the nomad. She was gorgeous, that part was obvious. But V felt a sort of pull, drawn to her like gravity. She couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away.

“Ay, I know that look,” Jackie tutted, humour lacing his tone. V turned back to see that smirk pinching at the corner of his lips. “It’s the same one you got when you tried it on with Rita at the Coyote last year.”

“Is not,” V defended half-hearted, before adding. “And how was I meant to know she had an input?”

“Everyone in Heywood knows that, _chica,_ ” Jackie grinned. “Let’s just hope you keep all your teeth this time.”

“Could go either way with that one,” Claire added, nodding toward Panam.

V laughed, breathy and low, before looking back at Panam. She was sipping her beer, ignoring everyone that dared approach. 

“Say hi to Misty for me, yeah?”

She could hear Jackie chuckle. “Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

She bumped her fist with his, ignoring his knowing look as she stood, taking her drink. “I’ll see you later, Jackie.”

“Go get her, V.”

V waved him off and weaved through the small crowd, keeping her gaze on Panam. She had her back to V as she approached, her eyes on her beer. V moved up beside her and leant on the bar, just in her line of vision. She wasn’t sure if it was the tequila pleasantly in her system, or if she just had a death wish. It was more likely the latter.

Panam looked up from her drink, her eyes narrowing. “Do I know you?”

“I’m V.”

Panam merely hummed under her breath, looking away.

Undeterred by the icy reception, V took the seat next to her, “Heard you misplaced your cargo.”

Definitely the latter, V thought.

Panam’s head snapped up. “Where did you hear that?”

“You do know where you are, right?” V queried, indicating to their surroundings. “This place spreads gossip faster than a girl’s locker room.”

“Great, just great.” Panam shook her head, her jaw flexing. Her nails were currently making short work of the beer label.

“Looks like Rogue’s off the Christmas list,” V commented lightly, taking a sip of her drink.

“Bitch set me up with a Raffen Shiv,” Panam ground out as way of response.

“Aren’t Raffens like murderers and psychos?”

“You think,” Panam spat, still seething. “Fucker took off with the cargo _and_ my ride. Rogue had to have known who he was, she vets everybody.”

V frowned slightly, “I’m sure she had her reasons.”

“I’m sorry, do you want something?” Panam huffed, her hand stilling on the ruined label. “Or you just here for a chat?”

V shrugged, nonchalant. “Maybe I wanna help.”

“And why would you want to help me?”

“What can I say,” V smiled, her eyes alight, teasing. “I’ve always been a sucker for a damsel in distress.”

Panam scoffed, “I’m not a damsel.”

“Clearly,” V remarked. “But you are in distress.”

Panam just rolled her eyes and sighed. “Lets just say I said yes. What do you get out of it?” she asked. “I know mercs like you, never do anything unless eddies are involved.”

“Maybe I’m feeling charitable. Caught me on a good day.”

“I don’t buy it.”

V smirked, leaning in closer to the woman. “Or maybe I’m just weak for a pretty face.”

She received another eye roll in return, V deciding she enjoyed it. Enjoyed the edge and the slight look of distain. She thinks Panam could tell _her_ to go ‘fuck herself’ and V would still be happy to be drawn into this gravity like pull. A pull that was stronger with their current proximity.

V decided to test the waters.

“I could always just go back to my friends,” V continued as she made to stand from the barstool. “No skin off my back.”

“Wait.”

Panam had reached out and grabbed V by the forearm before she could move far. V fought a smile. She could see that the woman’s jaw was visibly clenched. Deep brown eyes flicked up to meet V’s, “Do you have a ride?”

* * *

V shifted gears and sped further along the highway toward the Badlands. Panam was in the passenger seat, her face still twisted in a scowl. But V noticed it had softened somewhat since they’d reached the outskirts of Night City, the afternoon sun shinning above them.

They were seated in V’s new baby, a gunmetal grey Type-66 she got with the eddies she was paid for the Arasaka gig. She could have rented a nicer place, in a better building, but she was barely at her apartment except to crash every other day. A ride was more important in her line of work. Plus the Hella was practically Jackie’s at this point with how many times he borrowed it to take out Misty.

“I’ll call the client, convince him to leave Nash hanging. He has to have arranged a meet, even Nash’s not stupid enough to steal from 6th Street.”

V tore her eyes off the road to fix them on Panam, “6th Street?”

“Is that a problem?” Panam raised her eyebrows at V.

“No, no problem.”

Panam just hummed and got out her phone, putting it up to her ear. “Boz?”

V kept her gaze from Panam, letting the woman hash out the details with the client. She had to give it to Panam, she could see how she got gigs from the Queen of the Afterlife. By the sound of the call, the woman could talk a cyberpsycho out of their last dose of meds. V was quietly impressed.

“Fucker.”

V looked back over once Panam had hung up. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Panam huffed, pocketing her phone. “Got the deets. Nash is planning to do the drop after sun down in Rocky Ridge. I know the spot. Convinced 6th Street to stay away."

“So Rocky Ridge then?” V asked, speeding up and taking the next exit out of the city.

“Nah, got one small stop to make along on the way.”

* * *

“No can do, Panam. Saul was clear.”

“So, you won’t help me because of some goddamn generators?”

Panam was pacing in front of two men that were covered head to toe in military grade cyberware. Vets if V had ever seen them. Panam had introduced them as Mitch and Scorpion as they pulled up to the edge of the Aldecaldos camp.

Mitch currently had his hands shoved in the pockets of his green coveralls, his tone sympathetic. V could tell he held a great deal of affection for Panam by the set of his eyes, and the down turn of his lips as they exchanged heated words.

Scorpion on the other hand appeared a touch more reserved.

“Not this time, Panam. We’re needed here.”

Scorpion had his arms crossed over his chest, with a hood up that obscured most of his face. V stood a ways back, observing the conversation, letting Panam hash things out.

“Fuck, I don’t believe this.”

“Listen, we can’t leave camp, no chance,” Mitch placated with a sigh. “But Saul didn’t say anything about gear.”

Panam’s shoulders visibly deflated. “Fine…well I’ll need your rifle,” she huffed. “And some of my own stuff.”

“She’s all yours.”

“Give me a minute and I’ll be out of your hair.” Panam moved around the two men and headed into the camp. V followed a step behind, only glancing back at the two briefly.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” Panam just hummed as they made their way toward what V presumed was Panam’s tent. “You disappointed?”

“Maybe a little.”

V moved another step to be in stride with her. “So you just used me for a ride?” V jested, placing a mock hand over her heart. “I’m hurt.”

“Shut it, V.” But there was less of an edge than back at the Afterlife. “I knew the chances of those two helping were slim. So your ego is safe.”

V smirked at that and kept pace. They passed a campfire surrounded by other nomads, drinking and talking quietly amongst themselves. V had heard that nomads travelled in families, but she was shocked at how at ease she felt walking amongst them. It felt in some ways like she was back in Heywood at the Coyote, surrounded by her own family. Well, her chosen family.

She noticed some of the clan looked up as they walked by, some even calling out. V was getting the impression that Panam was a bigger deal around camp than she’d first thought. But she wasn’t surprised, a presence like Panam’s demanded attention – even if her voice was the one doing the demanding.

They neared one of the tents, Panam ducking underneath the tarp flap. V could see a few small personal touches Panam had made to her space, but her eyes were soon drawn to a sniper rifle that was resting against a small folding table inside.

“Nice,” V whistled, as the woman cradled the impressive piece.

“Thanks,” Panam half smiled, before nodding toward a large case at the foot of her cot. “Grab that too.”

V did as she was told, both returning to the car with their haul. She packed the case of supplies in the pull out trunk, while Panam stored the rifle in the limited space of the backseat.

Panam drummed on the roof of the car. “We can go, hop in.”

“Yes, ma’am,” V said, as she opened the driver’s side door. “Careful, or I might get used to this.”

“And what is that?” Panam humoured.

“You telling me what to do.”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“Only when my mouth is occupied with something else,” V winked, turning the engine over, her car rumbling to life.

Panam merely rolled her eyes once again, but V could see she was fighting off a smile. “Just drive.”

* * *

“So, is everything in order?” Panam asked, standing a few paces away from the three men.

V was by Panam’s rig, a handgun gripped tightly in her hand behind the passenger side door. V had had enough run-ins with 6th Street to know they couldn’t be trusted. Their twisted ideologies in the name of patriotism made them as volatile as Maelstrom. At least with Maelstrom they were forthright about fucking you over.

The 6th Street goon tucked the box under his arm, nodding to his boss. Boz smiled, “Check your account, should be pretty plush in a couple of minutes.”

Boz was half chrome and missing a leg. He seemed at ease around Panam, which V guessed was the reason he let her close the gig without Nash. There was trust there. She got the feeling though that Boz figured he was currently bleeding out in a ditch somewhere.

“It’s been a pleasure. Though I think Rogue is the one to pay me.”

“Think you’ve earned a tip,” Boz said, sounding impressed. “Be seein’ you.”

The three men got into their van, as Panam paced back to her rig. Only then did V clip her gun into its holster on her leg, relaxing her stance.

Nash had shown at Rocky Ridge, V deducing he wasn’t the brightest bulb to show his face at the meet. She half expected him to send lackeys in his place. But the oaf was unmistakeable as he rolled into the desolate town behind the wheel of Panam’s impressive Thorton.

Retrieving the stolen cargo was a cakewalk, the Raffens not posing much of a threat once their patrols were dispatched with a few well-placed shots. But after fighting her way through an All Foods filled with Maelstrom a few weeks earlier, V wasn’t at all surprised – and Panam knew how to handle that rifle of Mitch’s to her credit. They made quite the team.

Nash was squirming inside the bar by the time they reached him, Panam taking pleasure in putting a bullet between in his eyes using V’s offered revolver.

V didn’t blame her; she’d done so more times than she could count on one hand, and for a lot less. Growing up in Heywood, you learnt to grow a spine when a barrel was aimed at you. It was just life in Night City.

“Hop in. We’ll go grab your wheels. Might be able to make it back to Watson before midnight if we delta.”

“You’re the boss.”

V’s baby was currently in one of the garages in the ghost town. They’d used it to jump-start the power grid, before tucking it out of sight and waiting for Nash.

“Listen.” Panam settled into the driver’s seat, but paused in turning on the engine. “Thanks for helping me. God knows, you didn’t have to.”

V just shrugged, “I had nothing better do, was either this or get drunk at the Afterlife with Jackie. You looked like the more appealing choice.”

Panam shook her head, “Mercs.”

* * *

The rolling cloud of dust was sitting on the horizon as they pulled through Rocky Ridge. It looked very foreboding up close. V had only ever seen one from afar, and witnessed the after effects of the haze settling over the streets of Night City. But being so close to one in the Badlands was new for V.

Panam cursed under her breath as she came to a stop near the abandoned gas station, her eyes on the horizon as the storm rolled closer. “That’s not good.”

“What do we do?”

“We won’t be making it back to Watson tonight, that’s for sure,” Panam responded, already grabbing her bag from the rig. “Come on, we gotta find shelter before it hits. Or we’ll be driving blind.”

V jumped down from the truck too, Panam already searching the nearby cabins for a way inside. She pried useless at the sliding door of one nestled behind the gas station, as V took the small steps onto the wooden front porch.

She watched her struggle for a moment longer, before clearing her throat. “May I?”

Panam glanced behind her at V, before standing aside. “Be my guest.”

V approached it and dug her fingertips between the door and its frame; the chrome of her cyber implants lining her fingers and hands. It gave way with some effort, the metal screeching along its runners as it was forced open.

“After you,” V smirked, stepping back and motioning for Panam to go inside.

“Nice chrome,” she commented, as she paced over to the desolate fireplace in the dark cabin. “See if there’s a light, will you.”

V nodded, pulling the door closed behind her before searching for the switch. She could hear the first signs of the sand beginning to hit the roof and the side of the cabin. It grew louder as the wind picked up outside, the tiny specks peppering the walls like gunfire.

She eventually found the light, switching it on. To their collective relief, the bulbs flickered to life, having turned on the power in the area earlier that day. Panam got a fire going, while V began raiding the cupboards of the small kitchen. They were bare except for an old glass bottle of what she presumed to be whiskey of some sort. She uncapped it and sniffed its contents, only to pull away with her eyes slightly watered.

“All we can do now is wait.” Panam sighed, sitting on the couch close to the fire and resting her feet on the nearby coffee table.

“At least we have booze. I think.” V sat down on the other end, taking a sip of the mystery alcohol before placing the old bottle on the table between them. It burned all the way down, and was more akin to fuel than whiskey. “It’s passable.”

Panam kept her eyes on her as V loosened the straps on her tactical vest and pulled it over her head, placing in on the floor next to the couch. Her expression was unreadable, almost like Panam was trying to decipher something herself too.

V broke the silence. “So, weirdest thing you’ve ever transported – go.”

Panam quirked an eyebrow at V. “What, are we playing twenty questions now?”

“Come on, answer. It could be hours.”

Panam sat forward and grabbed the bottle, taking her own sip. “The deputy finance director of Kaukaz.”

V let out a breathy laugh. “That’s chauffeuring, not smuggling.”

“He rode in the trunk. Flatlined,” Panam quipped, passing V the bottle.

“Really? Dead?”

“A long story. Maybe someday I’ll tell you.”

“To someday,” V cheers’d, keeping her eyes on Panam as she brought the bottle to her lips. She then held it out for the woman to take.

Panam took the offered whiskey, taking a second sip before placing it on the table. “I knew who you were, by the way. Back there at the Afterlife.”

“So you were just playing hard to get?”

“Please,” Panam retorted. “Like you said, the gossip mill there could give the scream sheets a run for their money. No one pulls off an Arasaka job without the whole city hearing about it, even all the way out here in the Badlands.”

“So you knew I was up for your little task then?”

“Maybe,” Panam shrugged. “I still don’t know why you did it.”

“The Arasaka job?”

“Helped me,” Panam clarified. “You didn’t know me. You _don’t_ know me.” Panam raised her brow in a silent question. “And don’t give me that bullshit about you feeling charitable.”

“I dunno,” V said honestly, reaching forward for the bottle and taking a generous swig. It warmed her stomach. “It looked like you needed someone. I know what that’s like. I know what this city can do to people. It chews you up and shits you out. Maybe I wanted to change the status quo for once.”

Panam seemed to accept that answer, but stayed silent, just watching V. Her expression was softer than V had seen it. She was pleased to see how deep the woman’s eyes were when they weren’t narrowed in her direction or being rolled at her.

She felt that pull again, but this one was right behind her navel, the heat running over her skin having nothing to do with the alcohol or the fire burning low beside them.

“And besides,” V continued. “I’ve learnt the best friendships come from the most unlikely places in Night City. Jackie, the big guy from the bar, first time we met he pulled iron on me.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, ended the day at his mom’s place in Heywood eating chili. And then I sort of never left.”

“Sounds like we have that in common,” Panam murmured, grabbing the bottle again.

“And what’s that?” V tilted her head to the side, regarding the woman softly.

“Found family.”

“You mean Mitch and Scorpion?”

“Yeah, the whole clan,” Panam nodded. “Even Saul.”

“What happened there?” V asked curiously. After overhearing the conversation between the three nomads, she garnered that the relationship between her and Saul was strained to say the least.

Panam just laughed, placing the whiskey on the coffee table with finality. “There’s not enough booze in this cabin for that story.”

“Fair enough,” V relented, her hands up in mock surrender. “So what’s next for you, then?”

“Back to Night City. And by the sound of that storm outside, it’ll have to wait til morning.” Panam settled into the couch, pulling her feet up beside her. “We should get some sleep.”

“There's probably a bed, you know,” V edged, eyeing Panam.

“Don’t worry, I’ve slept on worse.”

V ducked her head, her cheeks burning a little. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant, V,” Panam replied, coolly. “Goodnight.”

V stayed on her side of the couch, slouching back to find a comfortable position. She let out a shaky breath as she closed her eyes, the woman’s words stirring something in her stomach that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure where this is heading, but strap in for a bit of a slow burner, at least on Panam’s part. Maybe a bit of world building too. More banter and flirting is in their future, but feelings will happen over many more storms and escapades.


	2. Chapter 2

“Not a single eddie?”

The man raised his brow, staring at V in disbelief.

“Jackie, it wasn’t biz.”

“You pulled iron on Wraiths and 6th Street,” he said pointedly. “That’s biz, _chica_.”

“It was a favour,” V muttered, half-hearted. “Its not a big deal.”

She brought her beer to her lips, taking a generous sip – mostly to avoid the knowing look she was receiving from him. She was at Mama Welles’ house for dinner, a weekly tradition every since the pair had met in the Embers parking garage. But she wasn’t there five minutes before Jackie had started grilling her about Panam.

“You do favours for Vik and Pepe,” Jackie continued, his hand on his own beer. “Not for the _mamacita_ at the bar you just met, least of all one you meet at the Afterlife.”

“It just sorta happened, Jack. I was flirting, next thing you know I’m offering to help her.”

“V, only you could go from flirting to a gunfight in a matter of minutes.”

“I know, it’s a talent,” V smiled.

Mama Welles chose that moment to exit the small kitchen, laden with plates full of food. She put down the rice and beans, and the tray of synth-chicken, before re-entering the kitchen. She came back moments later with serving spoons and hot sauces.

“This smells great, Mama Welles,” V enthused, already piling beans onto her plate.

The older woman smiled softly and settled down in her chair at the end of the table. “So what’s this I hear about you rolling around in the dirt with nomads, ay?”

“Jackie!” V scolded, but her best friend was avoiding her gaze, his eyes on his food. She sighed, turning to the older woman, “It’s nothing, Mama Welles.”

“It best be nothing, _mija_ ,” she warned, spooning a generous helping of rice onto her plate. “Those nomads are nothing but trouble.”

Mama Welles didn’t know how right she actually was, but not for the reasons she suspected. In the days that followed the sandstorm, V’s thoughts weren’t able to stray far from that cabin or the woman she shared it with. It was throwing off her game. Something even Jackie had commented on mid-op the night before.

After the storm had eased and the skies cleared, V was able to retrieve her car from the garage nearby. But not before waking to find Panam nestled softly on her shoulder on the small couch. If she thought the pull when sitting next to her was strong, Panam pressed against her was plain overwhelming.

She managed to free herself without waking her, and ventured out onto the front porch of the small cabin. The sun was just rising; V letting the fresh air wash over her, calming her senses. It was at times like this V wished she smoked. It would give something for her hands to do and mind to crave other than what it was currently itching for.

“V?” Mama Welles was holding out the bowl of rice, pulling V from her thoughts. “Eat up, I won’t have you go hungry.”

“Don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” V jested, taking the offered dish. “I think you made enough food for seven, Mama Welles.”

“Correction, she made enough food for _me_ ,” Jackie mumbled around half a chicken breast that was shoved in his mouth.

The move earned him a well-placed hand to the back of his head from Mama Welles, and a stifled laugh from V.

* * *

“It was good seeing you, Ms V.”

“Likewise, Dex.”

V watched the fixer push off from the bar and head for his private booth toward the back of the club, followed closely by his muscle, Oleg.

While he wasn’t her favourite fixer to work with, V had to give credit where credit was due. If it weren’t for Dexter DeShawn, she’d still be picking up small time gigs and scraps, instead of having her pick of fixers.

But something about him made her skin prickle and a sense of unease wash over her – call it intuition. It had her shooting back her tequila to settle her nerves.

Claire was behind the bar in front of her, wiping down glasses. The woman eyed her once Dex was out of earshot.

“You good, V?”

“Yeah,” V murmured. “Just hadn’t run into Dex since the Arasaka gig. At least not personally.”

“Here.” Claire refilled the shot glass. “On me. Looks like you need it.”

“Thanks, Claire.”

V downed the offered tequila, it warming her and letting her breathe a little easier. Claire’s gaze shifted then toward the entrance to the Afterlife, a smirk coming across her lips. She raised her chin, shooting V a look.

V turned her head toward the steel double doors to see Panam – and if it weren’t for the alcohol warming her, she probably would have felt her stomach flip.

Panam spotted her as she made her way over to the private booths.

“Of all the gin joints in all the world,” V greeted.

“Hey, you.”

Panam took a seat on the stool next to her, a soft smile on her lips.

“How’s biz? I figured you’d be done with Rogue.”

“I could be so lucky,” Panam mused. “I unfortunately can’t afford it.”

“There are other fixers.”

“Yeah, but not ones in need of smugglers like our Queen here. She’s got the monopoly, in Night City at least.”

“She’s right,” Claire agreed, leaning on the bar. “Nothing moves in this city without Rogue’s say so.”

“She’s still a raging bitch. But if I can deal with Saul, I can deal with Rogue.”

“Speaking of Saul,” V edged. “We _are_ at a bar, with an endless supply of booze. Isn’t that right, Claire?”

“That is correct.”

Panam just narrowed her eyes, “Nice try, V.”

“Can you fault a girl for trying to get to know you?” V asked, feigning innocence. “At least let me buy you a beer.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one doing that?”

“Well since you’re offering.”

Panam shook her head in amusement. “Two Brosephs.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Claire cracked open the two beers and put them on the counter. V took hers, taking a long sip. It was a good chaser after the two shots she’d downed.

“So what about the Aldecaldos, hear you’ve parted ways.”

“Where did you-”

Panam looked at Claire who merely shrugged with a smile, before leaving to serve another customer.

“Of course,” Panam muttered. “Well if the rumour mill says it, it must be true.”

“Honestly, I’d rather hear what you say.”

Something in V’s tone gave Panam pause. She regarded her for a long moment before responding. “Mitch and Scorpion want me to come back.”

“And you don’t want that?”

“It’s not that, just Saul and I aren’t really seeing things eye-to-eye these days.”

V took another sip of her beer. “Care to elaborate?”

She could see Panam consider it for a moment. V knew the request was passing a little too close to the subject Panam seemed intent on avoiding. V understood the hesitation; she was just another merc at the Afterlife to Panam. Even if that merc had risked her life on an eddieless favour just to spend time with her.

“Saul’s a great leader, I just think he’s making decisions out of fear and not out of what’s best for the clan.”

“Guessing you may have opinions about that,” V smirked, chuckling to herself. “Loud ones.”

“Fuck you.”

Panam’s eyes held a level of humour in them.

V was about to open her mouth to comment, when Panam shot her a look. “Don’t answer that.”

She put her hands up in surrender, the innuendo dying her tongue.

“Panam!” Both women turned to the booth to their left, Weyland ushering her over. “Rogue will see you now.”

“Good luck,” V offered.

Panam downed the rest of her beer and got to her feet. “I’ll need it not to strangle her.”

“I’ll put my name down for a conjugal if you go to the slammer.”

Panam rolled her eyes, pacing backwards toward Weyland. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

V just raised her beer, as Panam disappeared into the private booth.

* * *

“Alright, it might take a second to adjust.”

V blinked a few times, letting her optics focus as Vik sat back. The ripperdoc rolled a bit away on his stool, so he was in V’s line of vision.

“Look right here.”

Grabbing a ballistics grenade off the nearby tray, Vik unpinned it, keeping the lever squeezed tight. He held it up for V, the explosive now outlined an electric red in his hand.

“Preem,” V grinned. “Thanks, Vik.”

“Anytime, kid.” He replaced the pin carefully and rested the grenade back on the trolley. “Should also show you the exact explosion radius as well. The mod syncs with Corpo databases, giving you all kinds of useful info.”

V eased out of the well-worn chair. “You’re the best.”

“So I’ve been told,” Vik chuckled, it rumbling soft in his chest. He pushed his way back over to his desk, and switched the fight back on, the commentators’ voices filling the clinic.

“Later, Vik,” V bid, before wandering back up to the alley behind Misty’s store.

It was bright out, the early afternoon sun breaking though the gaps in the buildings that towered above her. She could hear Mr. Brightman purring softly by her boot, the cat grazing the bowl of food that sat at the top of the stairs.

V leant down to scratch behind his ears, but was interrupted when her phone buzzed, the name making her smile.

“Hey, long time no-”

“V, I need your help,” Panam interrupted.

V leant against the nearby railing, nudging Mr. Brightman playfully with her foot. “Am I the only merc you know?”

“The only one crazy enough to do this.”

V smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment. What’s the gig?”

“I need you to break into a Wraith compound.”

V’s eyes went wide, as she let out a low whistle. “You really know how to woo a girl. This doesn’t sound like a Rogue job.”

“Not from Rogue, no. This one’s kinda personal, V.”

“Okay, so what’s in it for me?” she asked, a little smug. “Because if there were eddies, you’d go to a fixer.”

“I’ll owe you one. _Another_ one,” Panam clarified.

V bit her lip, mentally kicking herself. “Count me in.”

“Thanks, V. Meet me at the Aldecaldos camp,” Panam said, with an audible sigh of relief. “I’ll send you the location.”

* * *

“This is crazy,” V stated. “I know you know that, but just wanted to reiterate.”

She was in the back of a van somewhere out in the Badlands, with Panam sitting behind the wheel. On the other side of the ridge beside them was an old warehouse, surrounded by barbed wire fencing and a few dozen Raffen Shiv.

Definitely crazy.

V unclipped the magazine of her silenced M221, double-checking the rounds before reloading it.

“I did warn you,” Panam offered up, twisting in her seat so she could look at V.

“I know you warned me, but you were talking to someone who stole from Yurinobu Arasaka. So my gauge on crazy is a little off.”

“Was kind of banking on that.”

V laughed, tightening the shoulder strap of her weapon. “You really don’t like me, do you?”

“And what makes you say that?”

She could hear the teasing lilt in Panam’s voice.

“The fact that you’re letting me go in there alone.”

“You won’t be alone,” Panam countered. “I’ll be covering you from here.”

She placed a hand on the rifle nestled on the passenger seat, the same one she used at Rocky Ridge the week prior.

“Well that’s comforting.”

It wasn’t a lie, as much as she said it in jest. Panam could handle herself. And a part of her knew the woman wouldn’t let her bleed out in the dirt in the middle of nowhere. But there was only so much someone could do from 200 feet away. Even if that person was a good shot.

“It’s not too late to back out.”

Panam’s expression told V she really hoped she didn’t.

“Not that kinda girl, Panam,” V responded, her hand going for the handle of the sliding door. “Wish me luck. I’ll be on the holo.”

Her boots hit the rough dirt, V quickly taking cover behind the ridge and blocking herself from the view of the watchtowers that dotted the compound. She kept low, moving through the dry brush until the boundary fence was only fifty or so feet away.

There was a small break in the concrete wall to the left of the boom gates, the barbed wire bent wide as if by an explosion. It was clear the Wraiths hadn’t created the set up, and according to Panam, they were nothing but scavengers. Moving in until the site was bled dry and no longer served their purpose, before moving on to the next. She suspects the gap was too much trouble to bother fixing.

She spotted a surveillance camera mounted on the side of a towering floodlight near the crumbling concrete. V downed it, before making her way over to the break in the fence. There was some rusted cargo containers on the other side of the wall, creating the perfect cover for V to set up within view of the main warehouse.

“Do you copy, V? How’s it going so far?”

V vaulted over the concrete block and paced carefully through the rows of containers. “As Jackie would say, smooth as sand paper.”

“Okay…gonna take that as things are going fine.”

“There’s two goons at the entrance to the warehouse,” V relayed, peering around the last container. “Watch the towers. Any movement, take them out.”

V shouldered her weapon and took aim, killing the second before the first one could even drop. The wind and the creaking of old corrugated iron drowned out the sting of the two silenced shots.

“All quiet here.” Panam reported from her viewpoint atop the ridge. “No movement.”

“Copy.”

V made her way over to warehouse, pressing against the steel wall before peering inside. She spotted a Wraith on the crosswalk above, waiting for him to turn his back before creeping inside, and hiding behind some chemical barrels to the right.

“They’re probably keeping her underground,” Panam instructed. “See if you can access a terminal.”

“Got it.”

V scanned a nearby camera to get a better vantage point of the interior. She could see three Wraiths patrolling the area of disused conveyer belts and machinery, and a door to what appeared to be an office or control room over the other side of the warehouse.

She relayed the information to Panam, before making her way to the door, staying hidden from the stray goons inside. She only needed to dispatch one guard manning the desk, snapping his neck and tossing him to the side. He landed with a muffled thud on the cement floor.

Her M221 hung from its strap across her shoulder as she used her personal to jack into the access point of the terminal. V cycled through the surveillance network to find a camera mounted in what appeared to an underground cellar of some kind, with a figure hunched in a chair.

“I think I got her.”

“How is she?” Panam asked without missing a beat.

“Hard to say,” V told her, taking her eyes off the figure and searching the surrounding area. “I see pipes.”

“There’s an old boiler room underneath the warehouse, that has to be it.”

“Alright, I’m on my way. Guide me.”

V shutdown the surveillance network, as Panam directed her from the drone scans they’d made of the facility.

There was only one Wraith near the door leading down to the boiler room, the rest occupied elsewhere in the compound. V hacked into his optics, resetting them, before swiftly knocking him unconscious.

She descended the metal staircase, the temperature dropping with the surrounding concrete and damp floor.

“Okay, I’m here.”

V approached the woman, her dark hair drenched with sweat. It fell in front of her face, obscuring her features. She checked her pulse, finding it thrumming steadily against her fingers.

“She’s alive.”

“Oh, thank god,” Panam breathed.

“How do we get out of here, Panam?” V asked, her fingers still pressed to the woman’s neck. “Preferably something that is not the front door.”

“There’s a storm drain that runs out of the compound. There’s an access tunnel to your left, you should be able to use it to get out unseen.”

The woman was coming to under V’s touch, groaning low. V crouched in front of her and untied the rope that was securing her to the chair. Once she was free, V cupped her cheek so she would meet her eye.

The first thing V noticed was a distinct Aldecaldos ‘A’ tattoo etched on her cheek.

“Hey, Dakota? Can you hear me?”

“Who are you?” she whispered, her voice raspy and dry.

“I’m V, Panam sent me. I’m getting you out of here. Can you walk?”

“I should manage.”

The woman stood, shaky at first but steadier as she followed V over to the steel grate she was currently unhinging to gain entrance to the access tunnel. V then ushered her through first, propping the grate back into position behind them.

“Panam, we’re coming up.”

“Okay, V,” Panam affirmed. “I’ll pull the van around, see you soon.”

* * *

“I think it’s time for introductions. Dakota Smith. I run biz in the Badlands.”

V quirked her brow, “A fixer?”

She was riding in the back with the newly rescued woman, while Panam gunned it down the dirt road and back toward camp.

“Indeed,” Dakota smiled. “Any friend of Panam’s is a friend of mine. And I like to make sure my friends are well compensated. Especially those who save my life.”

“Is this a biz proposition?”

“I could use someone of your talents on my crew,” Dakota explained. “I’m sure you have plenty of offers in Night City, but if you ever find yourself out this far again, I’m sure that we can do business.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“See that you do,” Dakota said pointedly. “Panam, drop me at my shop.”

“Not a chance, Dakota,” Panam refuted. “We’ll have the camp ripperdoc check you out first.”

“I’m fine, sister,” she chastised. “Raffens haven’t managed to kill me yet, and I don’t intend on that starting today. The shop.”

Panam sighed and reluctantly took the next turn. V sensed it was a battle she’d lost many times with Dakota. She was stubborn. Much like Panam.

After a few miles they pulled up to an auto shop along the highway. It was just becoming sundown, the lights on the signage flickering to life. Dakota slid the door open and hopped out, as a mechanic wandered over who looked considerably relieved at the sight of her.

“Thank you, V. I’ll be in touch,” Dakota bid, before nodding at her Aldecaldos sister. “Panam.”

Dakota disappeared inside the garage along side the mechanic, both talking low, as Panam rounded the van and leant on the passenger door.

“Thanks for your help, V. I know it was a lot to ask.”

“She’s your family, I get it.”

“Yeah,” Panam nodded quietly. “Sorry to drag you into it. Just the clan, they had their hands tied back at camp.” She paused, looking at the open garage as if she could still see Dakota inside. “But I couldn’t just leave her there.”

V nodded, her hands gripping the floor of the van as she leant forward out of the side door. “This was kinda like a trial, if you think about it.”

She smirked, glancing at Panam. The woman’s expression mirrored hers.

“True,” Panam reasoned. “You’re welcome then.”

V just laughed. “Jackie and I appreciate it. I’m sure gigs in the Badlands might be a nice change of pace for us. Might even be steady work?”

“Maybe,” Panam allowed. “Dakota could use good mercs.”

“If I didn’t know any better, Panam,” V said playfully. “I’d say you kinda like me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

V placed a hand over her heart in a mocking gesture. “Sweet of you to think that that’s where its gonna go.”

Panam actually laughed this time, shaking her head. “Come on, Casanova. I’ll take you back to camp.”

V stood, sliding the door closed before getting in the passenger side.

Her skin prickled uncomfortably as she watched Panam round the front and get behind the wheel. A thought struck her deeper than any physical urge toward the woman had so far. A thought that had her instantly craving that laugh, and had her wishing for the second time that she had a cigarette. Because the burning in her lungs would be better than the pull in her stomach at hearing that sound or seeing the woman smile.

Or being the cause of it.

Cigarettes would be less addictive.

“Everything okay?”

Panam was settled into the driver’s seat, looking curiously at V.

“Yeah,” V hummed, taking in a sharp breath. “Everything’s nova.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cigarettes would be better for V's health at this rate too if she persists on doing potentially life threatening favours for Panam, lets be real.


	3. Chapter 3

V woke with a start, the ping of her message tone echoing next to her. Her optics took a moment to focus, as she fished around in the centre console for the offending item. She could hear the distant commotion of the already awake nomad camp, V glancing at her phone against the sunlight streaming through her front windshield.

The screen showed that it was past ten-thirty _,_ along with a notification from Jackie.

**_Good lookin’ out, chica! Maybe now you can finally get some scratch for those favours of yours._ **

“Gonk,” V mumbled.

She’d messaged him the night before with Dakota’s offer while she sat around the campfire with Panam, Mitch and the other war vets. They were a colourful bunch. Cassidy seemed to never let his guitar fall from his grip. Mitch and Scorpion seemed intent on embarrassing Panam with shared memories, and V found herself drawn to the Valentino ink marking Carole’s neck. A part of her itched to ask her about it, but the stoic woman remained silent most of the night, appearing satisfied with listening to the others talk instead.

V was sure it would be an icebreaker for Jackie if he ever visited.

She flicked off a retort in response to his teasing, before pocketing her phone and opening the passenger side door.

She’d had every intention of heading back to Night City after she and Panam pulled up to the camp. It was still late afternoon. Plenty of time to make it back to Watson. But Mitch wouldn’t hear a word of it. She’d side glanced Panam who shrugged as he beckoned her over to the long trailer that was set up as the camp’s bar.

She’d been introduced to the other veterans, Cassidy, Bob, Teddy and Carole, before a beer was handed to her. And just like when she’d first walked through camp the week before, V felt a sense of ease surrounded by the group of nomads. A sense of family she’d only experienced around Vik, Misty, and Jackie. She decided not to dwell on the feeling, instead concentrating on the sound of Cassidy’s gentle strumming and the heat of the crackling fire.

V stretched once her feet were on solid ground, stiff from the awkward night sleep. Her back was tight, and her right shoulder was slightly numb.

“Hey, V. Welcome back to the land of the living, ” Cassidy grinned, strolling past her car. He was carrying a heavy looking container but he still managed to tip his hat in her direction.

V let out a breathy chuckle, greeting the man with a nod of her own and made her way into camp.

Bobby was also close by, smirking at V as she passed. “About time sleeping beauty decided to joined us.”

She approached him, the man sipping gingerly at a steaming mug of coffee.

“Want some?”

V stifled a yawn. “Desperately.”

The man grabbed the pot beside him along with a clean mug. “Not much of a morning person, eh?”

“You could say that.”

V took the offered cup, taking a sip of the rich synth-blend. She sighed softly as it hit the back of her tongue, the caffeine already working its magic. “Panam still around?”

“Yeah, she’s with Mitch and Scorpion in the large tent beyond the ridge.”

She nodded in appreciation, glancing over her shoulder at what she presumed was the direction of the tent. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Anytime.”

V made her way toward the low ridge that shaded part of the trailers lining the outskirts. There was a break in it, the ground dipping to reveal a tent three times the size of any other in the camp, and the only one close to the ridgeline.

V took another large sip of coffee, letting it wake her up as she crept down the sandy hill and into the tent where she could already hear the voices of the three friends.

“Morning, V. How’d you sleep?” Mitch chirped brightly as she approached.

“Think I might rent a motel next time. Back’s killing me.”

“You get used to it,” Panam smiled, her expression soft and relaxed. She was sitting on a supply container and playing with a wrench, her eyes on the massive machine that V couldn’t tear her eyes off either.

“What is _that?_ ”

“This,” Panam pondered, nodding towards the tank. “It’s a basilisk, panzer from 2060 or so. Care of our friends at Militech.”

V quirked an eyebrow. “Guessing they didn’t personally deliver it.”

“Not exactly,” Mitch allowed, crossing his arms over his chest. “They were gonna ship it off to some backwards country. So we took it off their hands.”

Scorpion was resting against a tent pole close by. “Mitch and I drove something like it back in the war. Hell of a machine.”

V approached the panzer, “Militech’s not gonna come looking for it?”

“Not a chance, Cassidy parked the evidence at a Wraith camp a couple miles away,” Panam replied coolly. “Besides, Militech don’t come out this way.”

“Saul might say different,” Mitch added. Panam shot him a look. But Mitch didn’t seem perturbed, grabbing the wrench from her hands and climbing on top of the tank.

Panam got to her feet and closed the distance to V. “Play your cards right, and I might take you for a spin someday.”

“You’re promising a lot somedays. Plan on keeping me around, Palmer?”

“Maybe,” she smiled, her eyes playful. “Speaking of, got a little something for you. To say thanks.”

Panam turned to leave without another word. Taking her last sip, V placed her empty cup near Panam’s coffee and followed in step with the woman.

“The vets and I got to talking after you crashed last night,” she began, heading in the opposite direction of camp.

They wandered over to where most of the nomads had parked their rides. V wasn’t gonna lie, they were impressive machines. Built for the harsh conditions of the desert. Top lights, hood exhausts, thick tires. Panam’s Thorton was parked amongst them, towering over the others. There were black Arch bikes, a handful of Shions, and one Type 66 parked haphazardly on the flat stretch of dirt.

“We figured you could use some wheels if you plan on sticking it out in the Badlands for a while,” Panam continued, coming to a stop next to a Thorton Galena. It was completely kitted out like the rest of the Aldecaldos vehicles, with a red and white paint job. “We had this one lying around. Mitch’s done some decent work on the engine too.”

V’s eyes went wide, “Are you serious?”

“She’s all yours.” Panam dropped a key card into V’s hand. “I told you I owed you one. The whole family does.”

V opened the driver’s side door and settled in the front seat. The whole dash lit up as she pushed the button ignition. It roared to life, the impressive engine rumbling the entire frame. “This is preem. Seriously.”

“It can stay at camp, if you like. Then you can switch up your 66 when you’re out here. Would hate to dirty up that baby of yours. Plus, it probably doesn’t off-road worth a damn.”

“Nova,” V grinned, something akin to butterflies turning in her stomach. She gripped the wheel, getting a feel for her new ride. “How about a test drive?”

“You read my mind.”

Panam rounded the car and hopped in the passenger seat. V closed her door and glanced over, looking down at Panam’s lack of safety harness. “Sure you don’t wanna buckle up?”

She tipped her head playfully, “I think I’ll survive.”

V revved the engine with a wicked grin. “Well, hold onto something.”

She floored it, peeling out of the camp, the tires skipping on the dirt briefly before gaining traction. Panam let out a small yelp as she braced herself against the dashboard. V’s smirk only widened, the Galena careening over the first few dirt mounds at speed just outside the camp.

Once they’d cleared the camp’s limits, V forced it into hundred and fifty degree spin, kicking up clouds of dust as she took them over the next set of small hills. Panam was smiling and laughing, one hand on the dashboard and the other gripping the wide-open window. The wind rippled through her hair, and for the second time, V felt how addictive being the cause of that smile was. Felt it in her veins as much she did the steering wheel beneath her fingertips, and the fresh desert air in her lungs.

The land flattened out, V glancing at Panam as she eased off the accelerator. “I see why you wanted your Thorn back so badly.”

Panam was already shaking her head, “Don’t even think about it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” V retorted.

“You didn’t have to, I saw the way you looked at her back there.”

V just laughed with a shake of her own head. “Leave the driving to the pros. Got it.”

“You’re not all that bad…for a city girl.”

“Thanks,” V deadpanned, scrunching her forehead. “I think?”

They drove a mile or so in silence before coming to a rolling stop at the edge of a cliff overlooking Night City. V killed the engine with a content sigh, her eyes on the horizon. It was a view she rarely got to see driving its streets. It looked so small from a distance. V closed one eye and held up her thumb and forefinger, pinching them together.

“Can’t even make out Heywood from here.”

Panam hummed. “Strange how something so small in the scheme of things can cause so much damn misery.”

“True, but it can also be pretty fucking amazing,” V smiled, turning to look at Panam. “I mean, piss off the right people and you can live the high life in Night City – the City of Dreams.”

The woman regarded her thoughtfully, her elbow propped on the open window. “Why didn’t you ever join the Valentinos?”

V’s eyes widened at the sudden topic change. “What, just because I came from Heywood? You think its some sort of rite of passage?”

“Isn’t it?” Panam smirked.

V shrugged, her gaze returning to the city view. “I had a few chooms make the jump, but most never saw their eighteenth birthdays.”

Panam’s face fell. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” V nodded. “Valentinos were at war with Maelstrom back then. The life expectancy of a Valentino wasn’t exactly long, and I quite liked living.”

“So you became a solo?”

“What can I say, we all have our talents, Panam,” V murmured, receiving an almost blush from the woman next to her. She could still feel the nerves churning gently in her stomach, the ones that had started when Panam had gifted her the Galena and hadn’t ceased. V was getting used to the fact that it was just the norm when she was around her.

“And ‘sides, merc life hasn’t managed killed me yet,” V grinned. Panam returned the smile, her expression otherwise unreadable. “What about you, what made you become a solo? Smuggling contraband across borders not exhilarating enough for you?”

Panam turned pensive, the light in her eyes dimming. “It was either that, or go back to the family.”

“Ah, the elephant in the room,” V tutted, leaning back in the bucket seat. “We should name him if he’s gonna stick around much longer.”

“Shut up.”

“I vote Manny,” she continued, undeterred by Panam’s playful scowl. “Jackie always told me if he ever got a pet he’d name him Manny.”

“Cute.”

V knew she would deflect or give a non-answer to her probing. Panam didn’t owe her anything, especially about her family. But it didn’t deter her from wanting to get to know Panam deeper than just her pretty face and fiery exterior.

Instead of acknowledging the elephant like V predicted, a sly grin passed over Panam’s lips. “Care to see how a real nomad drives?”

“By all means.”

Panam’s grin widened as she shifted closer to the gearstick. “Scooch.”

* * *

V was glad she secured her safety harness before they’d left the cliff top. Panam could drive, like _really_ drive. Her skills behind the wheel made V’s little test-drive feel like child’s play. But it should have come as no surprise. Panam was born for this life. Like the desert was in her blood, and gasoline was in her veins.

V wasn’t gonna lie. It was turn on.

Drifting effortlessly over each dune, missing the local vegetation by mere inches. It made V picture Panam crossing borders. Out running Corpo agents. Transporting the deputy finance officer of Kaukaz flatlined in her trunk.

By the time they pulled up to camp, V’s stomach was in her shoes and her heartbeat in her throat. She tipped her head back against the headrest, taking a much-needed deep breath.

“Shit, Panam,” V laughed, her fingers still gripping the open window.

Panam smirked. “Told you to buckle up.”

But her smile died on her lips, her face falling when a man with dark hair approached the front of the car. He was flanked by Mitch and Scorpion, but neither looked overly enthused to be there.

“Here we go,” Panam muttered, opening the driver’s side door.

The man crossed his arms over his muscular chest as they both got out. “Nice to see you, Panam.”

“That was almost sincere.” Panam’s tone was dripping with faux sweetness, and poorly masked distain.

V glanced between the two, before introducing herself with an outstretched hand. “I’m V.”

“Saul.” He took her offered hand. “I believe thanks are in order.”

“It’s the least you could do,” Panam drawled. “If it was up to you, Dakota would still be rotting in a basement right now.”

“Panam,” Saul chided, warning thick in his voice.

“What was your plan exactly?” Panam sneered, tilting her chin up in challenge. “Or were you just gonna let the Wraiths off our fixer?”

“You know my hands were tied-”

“No, Saul, I don’t know that. You’ve got your head so far up a Corpo’s ass lately, you just spew bullshit.”

“I’m just trying to make sure this family survives,” Saul growled. “Something you seem hell bent on destroying.”

“Surviving? Is that what you call this?” Panam shook her head. “And you wonder why I left.”

A dangerous look passed over Saul’s features. “You left because you were incapable of taking responsibility for your own actions, Panam. And while were on it, Dakota wouldn’t have needed saving if _you_ hadn’t put a bullet in Nash.”

“Fuck you, Saul.” She pushed past him, narrowly missing his broad shoulder, and stalked in the direction of her tent. V watched Panam’s retreating back, unsure of what to do.

The man sighed heavily, defeat tinging his eyes before he turned his attention back to V. “The family’s in your debt.”

“It’s no problem.” She waited a beat before speaking again. “I should probably…”

She pointed over his shoulder. Saul merely nodded solemnly, his lips turned down.

V hurried off after her, having to double time to make up the ground. She passed Teddy and Bobby sharing lunch by the bar, and a few of the other clan members who were murmuring as she followed Panam.

As they neared the tent, V watched as the woman grabbed something heavy from the folding table inside, and threw it hard against the back wall. It cut through the tarp, ripping a palm-sized hole in the green material.

“Fuck,” she cursed, kicking the footlocker under her cot.

V stayed near the entrance, cautiously ducking her head under the open tent flap. “You okay, Panam?”

Panam was sitting on the camping stretcher, her head hung and her elbows pressed into her knees. “Saul is a piece of work, if it was up to him he’d serve us up to Biotechnika on a silver platter. Might even thank them as they fuck us.”

A million thoughts ran through V’s head. Questions of what happened between them and how long it had been going on? What was this Corpo bullshit? What was the issue with the Wraiths? And if there was anything she could do to help.

But the loudest thought was the one she voiced.

“You wanna get out of here?”

* * *

They landed at a bar on the outskirts of the city. It wasn’t much. A pool table. A jukebox in the corner. Enough beer to dampen the fire in Panam’s eyes. A few of the surrounding tables and the small bar held the odd patron or two, and the speakers were blasting some radio rock that V hadn’t heard.

“Seems I was right about those loud opinions.”

V paced the length of the table, her right hand gripping a pool cue.

Panam rolled her eyes. “Shut up and take your shot.”

V smirked, almost forgetting for a moment of what it felt like for the gesture to be aimed at her. Even though it had only been a few days. She leant down and lined up her next shot, sinking the ball in the corner pocket.

Panam was leaning against her own cue, taking a long pull from her beer. She licked her lips with a sigh, “Saul wasn’t always like this.”

“No?” V looked up from the table, as she narrowly missed her next one. The white ball smacked into the side and ricocheted across the felt, sending her coloured ball further away from the pocket.

“The Saul I remember wouldn’t have touched a Corpo deal with a ten-foot pole.”

“What changed?”

“Saul did. He promised us a fresh start when we came to California. But you saw back there, bunch of tents on a pile of sand. Hell of a promised land. And now he’s ready to sell us off to the highest bidder.” Panam clenched her jaw for a moment, before taking her own shot and sinking it with ease. “He’s a goddamn coward.”

“But do you think he’s right? That Dakota was retaliation for us offing Nash?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. Wraiths are big on revenge. But so are the Aldecaldos.” Panam gave a small smile. “Not to worry though. With the Basilisk the family can protect itself if they ever try anything. Not that Saul would ever admit it,” she added rather bitterly.

V took a sip of her beer. “I’m starting to think you have a problem with authority.”

“Oh yeah?” Panam looked up through her lashes with a smirk. She took aim and sunk her last before the eight ball. “What gave you that idea?”

“I mean Saul, Rogue…” V listed suggestively. “Dakota.”

Panam paced around the table, to line up the shot. “Then how do you explain my problem with you?”

V chuckled, shaking her head, “Screw you.”

“I would, but you’re not my type.”

V’s throat tightened as Panam’s words hit. The woman was leaning down, her eye on the last ball of the game, so she didn’t catch V falter. The merc covered herself with another sip of her drink, trying to ease the sudden dryness.

“Too pretty for you?” V asked, hoping the tightness didn’t taint her tone.

“Far too pretty,” Panam agreed, the white ball pocketing the black. “And I believe that’s game.”

Panam straightened up and walked over to where her beer sat on the high table nearby.

“Don’t take it too hard, V.”

“What?” V choked out. Her cheeks reddened a little, as she raised her brow.

“We all have our talents,” she winked, nodding toward the table. “Pool…what did you think I meant?”

V turned her back, returning her cue to the wall holder. “Nothing important.”

Even though the pang in her chest said different.

Panam necked the rest of her beer, placing the empty bottle on their table. “One more for the road, partner?”

V already had her hand up, waving over the bartender. She was going to need more beer if she was going to wash away the feeling that had come with Panam’s little confession.

A lot more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said it was gonna be a slow burn on Panam’s part, well let the burning begin. A shorter one this update, but plenty more where that came from.


End file.
